


Haunted

by teddybluesclues



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-10-08 05:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10379220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teddybluesclues/pseuds/teddybluesclues
Summary: You were told it was noble to join. And it was. What you weren’t told was how the blood on your hands would stay there far longer then you thought was possible. How it would haunt the cracks in your skin, the bed under your fingernails, your dreams. And as of late, your waking thoughts as well. An ever present ghost. You were never told that you'd be haunted.You weren’t told a lot of things.* * * * * * * *An AU where Graves has a Muggle wife who's doing everything in her power to find her missing husband.





	1. The Boy

**Author's Note:**

> This idea's been rolling around the ol' noggin for the last few days, figured I'd share. :)

93 Days. It had been 93 days since your husband, Percival Graves, the head of Magical Security, had last returned home. 

93 days. 17 hours. 38 minutes. 

Not that you had been counting. Checking the dates off the calendar, counting the seconds the way one would check for a pulse. Steadily, with calm, unshaking hands. 

93 days. Alone, in a quiet flat, in an empty bed, and no news to be heard. No missing persons poster, no police files reported. Not a single one. 

“Probably just off on a bender, ma’am,” one particularly astute policeman had said. A bender. Like it was nothing to leave all your responsibilities for three months. Leave your job. Your wife. Just laughing it off in some Godforsaken tavern on Mulberry Street. Bloody unlikely. 

_Or in a ditch._ The irony of your husband’s last name didn’t leave you. He could very well be dead. The thought tries to etch itself into the forefront of your mind, but you wave it off with a flick of your wrist. 

The Wizard police weren’t much better. Non-existent, in fact. The tragedy of being a Muggle, no access to magical security. Can’t even manage to get through the right doors at the bank. Were they even looking for him? Surely you couldn’t have been the only one. Surely Tina would notice. Though you never met, Percival had spoken of her highly. Always with a tinge of annoyance, but you knew your husband better then that. He was fond of her. 

That was your destination for today. The bank. Watch the crowds, and try your damnedest to sneak in with a smile, a nod. 

Quite right. You tuck your dark curls into your hat and take to the cobbled streets once more. 

The city, despite being nothing like the English countryside of your youth, had a beauty in its own right. Not necessarily a beauty you yourself could appreciate, but a beauty nevertheless. The streets were always dirty, full of people. Even in the middle of the night, when the moon was high, there was a heartbeat seemed to thrum throughout the subway cars, the red bricks of old boarding houses. It thrived with life. Beat to its own drum, as it were. 

The bank was relatively new, not that you could tell. The rain and smog making it look as grey as the sky above. For a place of supposed fortune, it truly was an unfortunate colour. 

“The Devil walks among us!”

Mary Lou’s shrill voice demanded your attention. You tried your best to be respectful, but there was only so much respect you could have for the woman who actively seeked out to destroy your husband’s kind. So you stand, quietly, to the back of the crowd, your lips in a firm line. 

That is, until you catch sight of him. Standing at the front of the crowd, holding freshly stamped pamphlets, was the boy. 

Credence Barebone. Thin, with a jacket at least two sizes too small for his tall frame, he shivered from the cold. No older then eighteen, with amber eyes like yours. Not just in colour but in depth. He too, had seen his share of horrors. You wonder if it haunts him as it does you. 

He spots you at the same time, and you share a knowing smile. A curt nod. You feel the bread, and cheese wrapped safely inside your purse. You can’t very well take the boy, but you can at least make sure he’s fed. Although you were fairly certain what food he was given was shared with the young blonde girl beside him. Modesty. A pretty little thing. Like a doll that had been left in the sun too long, her eyes had faded into a dull gray while under Mary Lou's care. 

“You.”

The hair on the back of your neck stands on end. You could feel them staring, the crowd. Feel their eyes boring into your head. It takes you a second to realize that Mary Lou has cast her attention your way. 

“You. Miss. Do you believe in the Devil?”

“I do.”

Mary Lou’s taken aback, ever so slightly. Surprised. You can see it in her widened eyes, and the slack of her jaw. You repress the urge to smile with pride. She wasn't expecting you to agree. She clamps her sharp jaw firmly shut before speaking. 

“And who was the Devil of whom you speak?”

“War.”

The few people in the crowd shake their heads. You were told it was noble to join. And it was. What you weren’t told was how the blood on your hands would stay there far longer then you thought was possible. How it would haunt the cracks in your skin, the bed under your fingernails, your dreams. And as of late, your waking thoughts as well. An ever present ghost. You were never told that you'd be haunted. 

You weren’t told a lot of things.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovely people! Sorry for the delay, life's been a little bonkers lately, but there should be regular updates now. Semi-regular. I'm working on it. :)

"Mrs Graves?"

His voice was so quiet you almost didn't catch it. You turn to face the boy, and your heart melts. Despite being a good four inches taller then you, he still looked so small. Frail. Perhaps it was the jacket, or the way he curled in on himself. 

"Credence," his name stutters out with a smile. 

You wrapped him in a hug. It was short; it always had to be with him. Fear of Mary Lou kept you both at arms length. 

"How are you today?"

He looked away, his voice small, his lips barely moving,

"I'm alright, Mrs Graves."

"Beatrice, love. Call me Beatrice. Or Bea. Whichever's easiest." You brush your gloved thumb against his cheek. Poor boy's positively starved for touch. For affection. You remember that feeling all too well. 

"Yes, ma'am."

You guide him near the side entrance, where the shadows deepen. Mary Lou's distracted, trying to bring back her crowd. 

"Any sighting?"

"No, Mrs Gra -- Beatrice."

"Alright." You feel your head nod, like one of those puppets whose heads had become loose. You force yourself to keep calm. Keep rational. 

"Beatrice?"

"Yes, Credence?"

"Is that him?"

Credence nods towards your husband, who trots down the steps, not a care in the world. 

_It can't be._

"P-Percival?"

Before you know it, you're running down the steps after him, your heels clicking on the old steps. Half elated, half delirious with joy, relief, you feel it all until you look him in the eye. 

"Percival?"

You watch his nose shrivel up, like it did when you made him try frog's legs one night on a whim. 

Disgust. 

You haven't felt shame like this in years, red blooms on your cheeks, your ears flushed. Surely, Percival didn't mean to look like that at you. His brown eyes blink slowly, as if exasperated with your very presence. One eyebrow piqued up. 

"Yes?"

Something's not right. You know that much. You tuck your head down low, hoping your hat manages to cover your face. 

"N-nothing. I'm sorry. I thought - I thought you were someone else."

"Mhm."

You watch your Not-Husband continue on down the steps, his gait one of confidence, pride, and something more. Ignorance. His white scarf hanging limply past his lapels. So unlike him, you think vaguely. Percival always kept his in a knot. 

"Miss Beatrice?"

"Yes, Credence?"

"That wasn't him, was it?"

"No, Credence," you say with a sigh, "It wasn't."

**Author's Note:**

> First time fic writer here, so please be gentle with the comments/critiques/etc. Special shout out to seasons-gredence for inspiring this. :) Come say hi to me on tumblr, teddybluesclues.tumblr.com :)


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